


Recalling

by 8Theta8



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Gen, Language, Major Depressive Themes, Minor Character Death, Past Drug Use, Violence, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8Theta8/pseuds/8Theta8
Summary: It's just another ordinary trip for TWRP when they mysteriously crash land on some unknown planet. Now they have to fight demons of their pasts all while trying to find Them, the being who brought them here. Will they be able to face themselves and find each other, or will they fall victim to the labyrinth?Updates weekends.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21
Collections: TWRP Reverse Big Bang 2020





	1. Prelude

Space, the ever silent expanse. Sound can’t travel in a vacuum, making even the silence silent. The ever oppressive absence of everything weighs on those foolish enough to brave the quiet. Left alone for too long, crews turn, captains snap, and those travelling alone slowly go insane. The silence gets to everyone, no matter how safe they think they are. The absence is ruthless.


	2. Atmosphere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange circumstances foreshadowed their arrival, and even stranger will keep them here.

“Alright, Doc, we’re coasting at Warp now.”

“Thank you, Commander. Phobos, our course is still toward Deneb VII?”

Phobos raised a grey thumbs up above his head.

Havve’s voice box crackled to life, “THE TIME CRYSTAL IS HOLDING STEADY.”

“Awesome!” The Doctor unbuckled his safety belt and hopped up from his Captains Chair. “I’m going to head back to my cabin and take a nap. Gooby kept me up last night. That dog and skunks, I swear!” He stretched and shuffled off.

Havve mechanically unbuckled and stood, wordlessly leaving the Bridge.

“Bet he’s off to the Time Crystal Core, eh Phobs?”

_ “Probably,"  _ h e signed back.  _ “It’s a new Crystal, after all.” _

“Yeah, gotta make sure she works. I’m takin’ a cat nap.” Meouch snickered at his own pun and leaned back, propping his legs up on the control panel. “Wake me if Hogan needs me.”

Phobos nodded despite Meouch already snoring.  _ Cat nap, I can’t believe him sometimes. _ Phobos rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, pupils landing on the View Screen.

Stars streaked by their little ship. Whole solar systems passed by faster than Phobos could blink. He got lost in their light, letting time lose all meaning to him, feeling the stars call to him.

Sung, meanwhile, was sweating in his sleep. He had been tossing and turning ever since he’d laid down, fast asleep despite his aggressive motions.

In his dream, although it felt more like a nightmare, something or  _ someone _ was calling out to him. He dashed through the halls of the decrepit freighter ship, not sure if he was running to or from  _ it _ .

_ Where are the others? _

He turned corner after corner, desperately trying to find something new. His eye merely skimmed over the grey walls and exposed wiring. Nothing was different. He was lost.

Sung landed face first on his floor. His hand flew to his chest, gripping the Prismatic Core. The device sent steady pulses throughout his body.  _ It's okay. I'm okay. _ The thrumming grounded him.

He staggered to his feet, carefully reorienting himself. He was in his cabin on his ship with the lights off. Suddenly his cabin was bathed in a scarlet glow. Sung whipped around, still on edge from the nightmare, only to be met with a familiar metal face.

"Havve! You almost gave me a heart attack!" His hand hovered over his Core.

Havve tilted his head as an equivalent to raising an eyebrow, and shot his words across their mental link.  _ "You don't technically have a heart." _

"I know," he strained out a laugh. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

The cyborg tilted his head further.  _ "You called me." _

"I… I did?" Sung furrowed his brow at the quickly fading memories.  _ Must've been one hell of a dream. _ "Sorry about that. Guess I was sleep talking again."

Havve took a step closer.  _ "It sounded serious, Sung." _

"Well, you know nightmares." He shrugged off Havve's glare.

_ "No, I don't." _

“Oh, right… Welp” He grabbed his pylon from the nightstand. “I’m off to the Bridge.” He slid between Havve and his door frame. “How’s the new Time Crystal doing?”

Havve clunked behind Sung,  _ “I haven’t seen any cracks, and all output was within the normal range.” _

“Good, let’s hope this one doesn’t shatter like the last one.”

_ “This one doesn’t have any hairline fractures.” _

“Right you are!” Sung slipped on his pylon as the door to the Bridge slid open. “Phobs, Meouch, how far out are we?”

He was met with silence and shared a look with Havve.

_ “Asleep?” _

“Phobos wouldn’t sleep at the Helm,” he whispered back as they crept up the stairs to the Console. Meouch was leaned all the way back in his chair, one arm haphazardly thrown over his eyes and the other dangling at his side with his feet kicked up on the Communications Array. Phobos, however, was utterly still. His eyes were trained on the View Screen, focused on a planet they were in orbit over.

“Phobos?” Sung walked over to the Scarabille. His unblinking eyes were glassy under the visor, never leaving the View Screen.

“Phobs?” Sung carefully shook his shoulder, sending a small spark of his own energy to his friend. Phobos blinked once, twice, and finally focused on Sung’s worried expression.

He flexed his fingers and brought them up to sign.  _ “Hey, Sung. What’s wrong?” _

“I’m fine, but are you alright?”

_ “Yeah, I was just watching the--” _ He found the View Screen again, brow furrowing, and slowly signed out,  _ “stars… Where are we?” _

“I was going to ask you that.” Sung and Phobos leaned over the Helm. “Apparently you suddenly changed course to this place.”

_ “No, I didn’t.” _

Sung typed into the console. “Ship’s Log says you did about an hour ago.”

Phobos tensed,  _ “I don’t remember that.” _

“It’s nothing to worry about, Phobs. You probs just fell asleep, or something.” Sung didn’t even believe that.

_ “Probably,” _ his hands hesitantly signed.

“Havve, wanna wake Meouch?”  
“WITH PLEASURE.”

Havve walked over to Meouch as quietly as robotically possible. He carefully placed one hand under Meouch’s legs and the other on his shoulder, and dumped him onto the floor.

The Felinal softly landed on all four of his paws and sprang up to his feet. He whipped around to find the ever-stoic Hogan with a giggling Sung and Phobos behind him. “You’re lucky I got cat-like reflexes!” He jokingly punched Havve’s shoulder, but the cyborg was fixated on the Communications Array.

“SUNG.”

The Doctor was immediately at Havve’s side. “A distress beacon coming from…” He typed into the console, but suddenly faltered. “... the planet below us.”

All four beings looked towards the View Screen. The pastel pink and bright azure blue planet seemed to tempt them, daring them to investigate its forests and waters. Begging them to peak below the surface.

“How’d we get here, anyway? ‘Cause this definitely isn’t Deneb VII.” Meouch ran a nervous claw through his mane.

“Phobos apparently brought us here.”

_ “I must have fallen asleep,” _ Phobos hastily defended.  _ “I don’t remember setting these coordinates.” _

“‘S-alright, Phobs,” Meouch slurred as he stretched, “happens to the best of us. So, what’s on the beacon?”

“NOTHING. IT IS ONLY REGISTERING AS A DISTRESS BEACON. THERE IS NO ATTACHED MESSAGE OR SHIP INFORMATION. THERE’S ALSO INTERFERENCE ON ALL RADIO FREQUENCIES. I CAN’T GET THROUGH TO ANY TRANSMITTER,” Havve crackled out as he read.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out what they need.” Sung hopped into his chair and strapped in. “We’re going down there.”

Meouch and Havve shared a worried glance. “Doc, this is apparently an undiscovered planet. Is it really the smartest idea to dive in headfirst?”

“If the beacon is anything to go by, there may be beings down there who need our help. Beings who are in  _ distress _ , Commander. If we can’t help them from up here, then we’re going down there.”

Meouch nodded and strapped into his chair. It was hard to argue with Sung when he got like this. His unyielding and unquestioning empathy was fantastic, but it also got them into a lot of adventures-turned-disasters.

Phobos and Havve also clicked into their seats. “Alright guys, take us in!”

The ship began its steady descent towards the planet.

“ATMOSPHERE IN THREE… TWO… O--”

Havve was harshly cut off as the ship lurched forward. Red emergency lights flared and sirens screeched. Phobos and Meouch tried to ease their descent as Havve pulled up their Force Field. Sung watched the pink planet grow ever closer. They started slowing, little by little, but it was too late. They were too close.

The last thing Sung felt before blacking out was the ship slamming into the ground and the safety belt ripping into his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could have gone wrong?


	3. Damages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More obscure dreams, but right now that’s the least of their problems.

He was running again. Corridor after corridor of grey paneling and long dead exposed wiring met him after every corner. Nothing changed. His Prismatic Core pulsed hard in his chest. The power it gave off surged through his being, granting him the energy to keep going.

He had to keep going.

He has to find _them!_

_Where are the others?_

The voice started calling out to him again. It whispered his name. It begged him to find it. It told him not to worry, that his friends are alive. It sounded empty, like it was lying.

The one thing it said that felt solid was that it needed him.

_It needs help._

_It needs me._

He kept running, searching for some imperceptible difference in the walls, the floor, the air.

_There has to be something!_

The only thing he could do was follow the voice, even when it felt like he was running in circles. He had to keep going. He couldn’t trust it, but he had to find it. He had to make sure it was okay, and the lying didn’t do anything to help. It kept getting louder with every corner he turned. It was almost like it was right in front of him, shouting his name and shaking him with every pounding step.

Sung snapped his eye open. His chest was heaving. His Core was thrumming. He saw red.

“Sung, can you hear me?”

He blinked his vision clear, the weight on his shoulders and the voice six inches from him coming into focus.

“Sung, _please!_ ”

He almost didn’t recognize the voice at first. It had been so long since he’d heard it. He blinked again, “Havve?”

The bright red eyes dimmed slightly. “I’m right here,” he squeezed Sung’s shoulders. “Good to see you’re back.”

“We crashed?” Sung unclipped himself from the chair and stood, Havve helping him on the way up.

“Yeah, we crashed hard.”

“What about-” he cut himself off, wincing at a stabbing pain in his chest.

Havve didn’t think much of Sung’s sudden cringe, chalking it up to stiff muscles from the impact. “Meouch and Phobos are still out cold. They seemed fine to me. You should look at them, though, being a doctor.”

“And you?” Sung pushed off of Havve, staggering over to the Helm. Meouch and Phobos were still locked in their chairs, the safety belts doing their jobs. They were both seemingly knocked out, just as Havve said, but he couldn’t be sure. He shuffled towards Meouch first. The Felinal didn’t have natural padding like Phobos, and his fur could easily hide wounds.

“I’m fine.” Havve brightened his eyes, giving Sung some light to work with in the darkness.

“Bullshit,” he almost smiled, “you’re using your organic voice. You _never_ use your organic voice.” He started patting down Meouch, looking for any bleeds.

“My voice box was smashed against the console, but that’s the only damaged system.”

“And our link?” He moved to the Commander’s limbs.

“Blocked.”

Sung dropped the arm, spitting out the word in shock, “What?”

“It’s blocked. My side is fine, it’s your side that has a problem.” Havve’s voice dropped to almost a whisper as Meouch seemed to stir.

Sung worried at his bottom lip, considering the possibilities. “I must have a slight concussion,” he shakily decided. “It shouldn’t be anything to worry about, of course. It’ll resolve on its own.”

Before Havve could retort, Meouch groggily opened his eyes. “Hey, Doc. What’s going on?”

“We crashed. How do you feel?”

“I…” He took a minute, assessing himself, “I think I’m alright.” He slowly stood.

“Good,” he spun to Phobos and gave him a once over. Phobos was much easier to examine. Being a Scarabille, any wound would be obvious because his exoshell would be shattered and any minor bruises wouldn’t damage him too much thanks to said shell.

“And you, Hogan?”

“He can’t talk,” Sung covered as he roused Phobos. “His voice box was damaged in the crash.” The cyborg moved towards the Console and started typing.

“Damn, that bad?” Meouch ran a claw through his mane.

Phobos lifted his slightly shaking hands. _“Crash?”_

“Yeah, we crashed,” Sung sighed out.

Havve abruptly slammed on the Console. The other three teammates jumped in surprise. The cyborg was staring at the Console, unmoving, almost as if he was waiting.

A very soft whirring within the paneling broke the silence. Red emergency lights slowly brightened up the Bridge. Thay had power!

“Nice job, Havve!” Sung clasped his shoulder, but faltered when the Viewing Screen remained dark.

The cyborg, reading his expression, looked to Meouch as he pointed up to the screen then seemed to fly his hand downwards in some obscure sign.

“What do you- Oh! I get it! We went in head first, so we won’t be able to see anything ‘til we pull outta here. But, uh, I wouldn’t try that yet.” All eyes zoned in on Meouch. “The Time Crystal. We don’t know what kinda shape it’s in.”

Havve nodded in solidarity, motioned to Meouch, and walked off the Bridge.

“I guess he wants me to…” He scampered after Hogan.

“Well, Phobos, I guess we should check the rest of the ship.”

_“Look out for hull damage?”_

“ _Especially_ look out for hull damage, but tally anything else that’s broken.”

_“I can take the escape pods and storage if you want to take our quarters.”_

“Yeah, we’ll cover more ground if we split up.”

Phobos nodded and ran off, leaving Sung alone on a once familiar bridge. Sung looked up at the Viewing Screen, seeing a spider web of cracks he hadn’t noticed earlier. Havve’s chair was bent forward, clearly broken at the hinges, and his station was visibly dented inwards. _Hopefully it’s not too damaged._ Deep claw marks were etched into Meouch’s control panel. Wires were hanging out from where metal ceiling tiles had been displaced. Thankfully there weren’t any sparks, which relieved Sung to no end. He very slowly left the bridge, careful to avoid low hanging wires and broken hunks of metal.

He’d never seen his ship so quiet. There was always a low hum or a light whine or _something_ telling him she was alive! But here he was, tiptoeing down the dark halls of a dying ship. He was moving slowly, carefully, never too fast and with one hand over his Prismatic Core. If the constant, dull, _painful_ throbbing meant anything, it was that something was wrong with his Core.

Sung peaked into everyone’s rooms. A few things were knocked over here and there, but nothing major seemed broken. He wasn’t really paying attention to the little things, though. He had bigger problems. Thankfully most of the windows seemed intact and the damage looked like it was just on the inside, boiling down to a dislodged panel or a dangling wire. Then again, it was hard to tell when all Sung had to go by were the red emergency lights and the duller-than-normal light from his Core.

_Bigger problems._

He finally shuffled into his own room and pressed the button to close the door, which didn’t move. He sighed to himself, noting that auxiliary electrics were probably out, and gripped the sliding metal panel. The moment he even slightly started pulling, he jumped back and grabbed his chest. Pain was shooting through him, racing down his nervous system, all stemming from his core. The light in his chest pulsed with his own rapid hearts’ beats, then steadily slowing and dimming until it reached its new dull state.

“Fuck me…”

That was all he could manage out in between pained breaths. Something wasn’t just “wrong,” something was _terribly wrong_.

He staggered back and dropped onto his bed. Hands shaking, he slowly took off his pylon and padding. He dropped his armor, piece by piece, onto the bed behind him. The chest piece he took off last and the most gingerly, wincing when he heard glass cracking.

He finally came to his garishly yellow jumpsuit. He took a breath, attempted to steady his hands, and unzipped it from behind. He very carefully stood and walked, one step at a time, to the full length mirror on the wall. Grabbing a flashlight from a nearby drawer, he shined it on his Prismatic Core.

Normally, the light his Core emitted would look like a little star in his chest. Bright enough to light up a small room, but not so much that you couldn’t stare at it. It had a crystal lens covering the implant. The lens also kept everything in place and was shaped to direct the prisms’ power into Sung. Besides, if he covered it with anything opaque it would overheat. And yet it wasn’t hot, just constantly warm. The warmth permeated his being, rolling over him in waves that were always in tandem with the core’s pulsing which itself was synchronized with his own double heart beat.

Now it was completely different.

The light was dim, weakly oscillating in brightness with his weak pulses. The once powerful light was now faint enough so that Sung could see the prisms- _t_ _he very out of place prisms!_

The prisms were supposed to be perfectly lined up with each other, three diamonds in a row with three around each of the two joints. Now they were completely out of line, crooked and bent out of their mandatory positions. He squinted his eye, looking deep into his unnaturally quiet core. A few of the prisms looked like they were cracked, but not completely broken. None of them looked like they were touching the metal lining, which was a huge relief to Sung. If any of them were, his body would take the full discharge of the prism’s energy. At best, he’d be knocked unconscious. At worst, he’d die instantly.

The protective crystal lens was also cracked. With the prisms out of alignment, they couldn’t release their energy in the right direction at the appropriate level, _which could mean…_

He held a hand in front of his Core’s light, but pulled back not long after. The light itself was radiating heat, but Sung was cold. Most, if not all, of the energy was shooting out of the lens like a beacon. He was absorbing just enough to keep him alive.

_Alive for now, at least._

Without his core, Sung would have a day _maybe_ , assuming he didn’t strain himself or talk very much.

The fact that he was still standing meant that he was tapping into some of the energy, but the misalignment meant that everytime he got his hearts’ rates up he would be met with some sort of painful shock.

“Son of a bitch…”

Something had caught his eye. A light bruise was starting to form over his chest in the shape of an X, and his core was right where the lines intersected.

It was the _safety belt!_ The god damn _safety belt_ of all things…

Sung laughed to himself, savoring the irony, before another pulse of dull pain silenced him and drew his attention back to the dying elephant in the room.

He couldn’t simply repair his core. It was too damaged for a quick realignment. He’d have to replace the damaged crystals before they cracked further and then replace the lens. That wasn’t hard. It was rather simple, actually. All he had to do was disengage and remove his core, attach a temporary power source, and replace the crystals and the lens. It was almost insultingly easy, and something he’d done before.

The problem now was that he didn’t have a temporary power source _or_ replacement crystals _or_ a new lens here. They were all back on Earth, sitting in a drawer in his lab, and he couldn’t exactly get back to Earth because his _fucking ship-_

Sung stumbled back from the mirror, falling onto the bed with his head in his hands, breathing hard. He doesn’t know how long he has before his core either burns itself out or one of the prisms kill him, and that absolutely terrifies him to the point of panic.

_Pull yourself together! What if they saw you like this? What about that signal?_

He took a deep breath, and then another, and steadied himself. He focused on the weak but still present warmth in his chest, pulling himself back to the here and now. Right now, him and his friends were possibly stranded on some unknown planet because someone sent out a distress signal. Someone needs help, and they were here to help. If there was no immediate danger, Sung was going to be damn sure they helped whoever was here. He’s a _doctor_. He helps people.

_I’ll be fine._

He pulled himself up, replaced his gear, and left his quarters slowly but with a newfound determination.

It was Phobos he found first. The Scarabille was headed back to the Bridge, looking for Havve and Meouch. Sung joined him as they made their way through the red hallways. Thankfully there wasn’t any damage in the rest of the ship, but every window they came across was dark from whatever they were buried in.

Then they came to the Bridge. Climbing the few stairs to it worried Sung at first, but as long as he watched his breathing and kept a steady pace he was fine.

On the Bridge they found Meouch and Havve, both hunched over the Console and desperately typing into it.

“What did you find out,” Sung managed out, fighting back a wince from climbing the stairs a touch too fast.

“Time Crystal’s cracked,” Meouch said without turning around. “Now we’re tryin’ to get some electrics online, but without the crystal we won’t have much. Right now the aux power is going into life support and emergency lights. If we can override built-in crash protocol, we should be able to get scanners up and running so we can see what’s out there.”

With a final decisive tap on the panel, Meouch and Havve pulled their hands away. All four watched with bated breath as, one by one, the red lights switched over to white and the Viewing Screen displayed the Sensor HUD.

With an excited grin, Meouch returned to the Console. “Life support online, lights online, general computer systems online, communications array,” he gave a glance to the massive dent in Havve’s station, “probably busted… I’ll have to fix that eventually… Not a big deal… The lightspeed engines are offline because of the crystal, _obviously_ , and I don’t know about subspace. I’m not getting any readings from it, so I’ll have to make my way below deck…”

Meouch was holding himself back, Sung could tell. He was mumbling every other word, being flippant about serious damage, not even looking at anyone else. Sung had known the Felinal long enough to know when he was royally pissed off and yet unbelievably distressed. The one good thing about Meouch being in that sort of mood was that he was brutally honest, even if he was a bit blunt.

“So how long do you think until we can fly?”

“Fuck if I know, Doc. We kinda went in head first, so it’s either totaled or completely fine or somewhere in between. I gotta see it, which is part of the reason we got the lights back on. The lightspeed engines though,” he chuckled darkly. “Crystal’s got a big ass crack right down the middle. We even _think_ about using it and it’s guaranteed to shatter. We’re pretty damn lucky I ran off to Antares IV to get some bullshit Time Crystal repair training last time we overworked it, huh?”

Phobos tapped Meouch’s shoulder, catching his eye for a moment. _“I thought you said that was a stupid waste of time.”_

“It was when we _weren’t_ stranded on an undiscovered planet, ‘bos. Now it’s lookin’ like I’ve gotta haul our ass outta here. Do you have any idea how long it takes to repair one of those hunks of glorified rock? Weeks! And that’s on the low side. I’d have to work ‘round the clock for the next _month_! Unless…” He turned back to the console, furiously typing in the sudden silence.

Sung almost laughed, then and there despite the gloomy atmosphere. He knew that if he let Meouch talk long enough, he’d come up with something.

_He always does._

The Console pinged as the screen lit up, catching everyone’s attention.

“I’ll be damned…” Meouch breathed.

On the screen was a basic brown topographical map of the planet. It looked to be mostly rolling hills with the occasional river or pond, but seemingly no plant life. Their ship, marked by a bright orange dot on the map, was snugly tucked up next to one of the dunes. On the other side of the map, however, was a flashing mint green dot inside of some sort of structure.

Then Sung did laugh. A breathy little relieved sound escaped his lips. “Meouch, is that-”

“Fuck yeah it is!” Meouch bit back on an excited growl.

It was a _Time Crystal_ , just sitting on this deserted planet. According to the base level readings, it seemed to be intact.

“Alright,” Meouch spun around to his teammates, “the only problem is that it might not be the right size. I should be able to rig our ship to work with it though, so we won’t worry about that right now.”

 _“All we have to do is go out and get it?”_ Phobos’ hands were quick, excited, _hopeful_ that they could just leave this place.

“Looks like, then we can hightail it outta here.”

Sung stiffened at Meouch’s eagerness.

_Had they forgotten?_

“That’s great that we can go, but first we should find that distress beacon.” Sung had summoned a more commanding tone, reaching behind Meouch to tap into the Console to try and pin-point the signal.

“Listen, Doc, I know ya want to help who ever it is, but after-”

Meouch was cut off by a harsh ping from the Console. Apparently, the distress beacon was coming from the same structure the Time Crystal was in.

“How about that, Commander. We can find the Crystal _and_ see if anyone needs help at the same time. The ships only,” Sung squinted at the map, “a couple hundred meters away.”

“Doc-”

 _“What about the climate? The map only gives elevation.”_ Phobos interjected, hastily sticking his hands in front of Meouch.

“I guess we’ll have to see when we get out. Considering no alarms are going off right now, we can assume it’s reasonably safe.”

“Sung-”

 _“But we’ll still take oxygen regulators?”_ Phobos had pointedly cut Meouch off again.

“Of course! We don’t know the makeup of the air here, and that sensor isn’t sending a solid reading. Did you have something to say, Commander?”

“Yeah, uh…” He could feel their eyes on him. Sung’s was blissfully optimistic and woefully ignorant behind his visor, not seeming to care about any of the potential dangers. Phobos’ were almost pleading with Meouch. He just wanted to get the Crystal and get out of here, and if that meant humoring Sung for a while was the quickest way to do it then so be it. And Havve’s… He may not have been able to see them, but Meouch could feel the robot’s crimson lights burning into the back of his skull. He knew what Havve was thinking, too. He saw how happy Sung was, and he didn’t want to rip that away. Havve _always_ put Sung’s well being above everything else.

“Commander?”

Meouch found Sung’s eye again. “I think we’re going to need communicators and weapons before we head out,” and against his better judgement he forced a smile. 

Sung absolutely beamed. Meouch felt the intensity of the stares lighten up a bit.

“But, Doc,” the intensity returned, “we have to figure out what kind of communicators we can use.” Their stares finally shifted to silent agreement. “Apparently the jamming we detected in orbit is just as strong down here. I know we haven’t tested them much yet, but the communicators you were putting together that use targeted gamma rays might work.”

Sung’s eyebrow shot up in surprise. “I haven’t tested those at all. I’ve only finished actually building them yesterday.”

“Are they safe?”

“Yeeh? Probably?”

“Doc, _are they safe_.” Meouch was deadly serious. If they were going out, he was going to make damn sure they could at least communicate.

“Yes, they should be safe to use. The lining around the sensor should protect you guys, but I also have lead-lined packs to protect you further. There shouldn’t be any radiation problems because the sensor attracts and stores gamma rays until they’re safe to release, but radiation can be tricky.”

Meouch didn’t like it, but untested radioactive communicators were all they had to stay connected. “Well, considering it’s our only option, I guess we’ll go with it. You want to go get them?”

Sung nodded and walked off. Meouch immediately deflated, slouching against the Console once he lost sight of the cone. “What the fuck am I gonna do?” Meouch asked no one in particular.

Phobos stepped in front of him, hands raised and ready for a speech. _“_ _You_ _are going to fix this ship. Havve and I will take care of Sung. We’ll be there just long enough to find the Crystal while you get at least subspace engines operational.”_

“I’m just worried, ‘bos.”

 _“So am I. I want to get out of here just as much as you, but we_ _can’t_ _. Not until we have that Crystal, and working with Sung when he’s like this is easier than arguing with him.”_

Phobos had a point. He was always level headed and thought things through in these situations. Meouch couldn’t help but agree. He nodded, but before he could speak Sung was walking back up the stairs.He had four dark belts draped over one shoulder, arms full of little boxes, Phobos’ sword and shield over the other shoulder, Havve’s weapons belt sitting on top of the boxes, his nunchucks in their holster, and his smile was absolutely glowing.

“I picked up all of our usual gear along with the communicators to save us a trip,” he passed everything out, “and I’m pretty sure I got everything. You have your blaster, right Meouch?”

“Always,” his hand rested on the small yet powerful gun in its holster.

“Awesome.” He tapped in a quick command in the Console. “According to the general hull report, it looks like our only exposed section happens to be the main back hatch.” He pointed to the hard light hologram of the ship that had just come up, spinning it around to show the only area that wasn’t red with pressure was the rear hatch. “I checked, and doors are still out of power so we’ll have to open it manually. That’ll be heavy, but I’m sure we can handle it. Come on!”

And Sung walked off, leaving the rest of his team looking at each other, all wondering if any of them caught the number of the bus that just crashed through. With a collective sigh, they strapped on their gear and wandered after Sung.

Sung was ahead of the others, but not by much. He was taking it slow whenever he could. Talking fast but moving slow in front of the others, and then going at a crawl when he was alone. If he let them know something was even _slightly_ off, they’d be off planet faster than he could tell them he was fine. Havve would make sure of that, and they’d never get to see if anyone was actually in danger. Sung couldn’t let that happen. If there was even the slightest chance someone was in any form of trouble here, he was going to help them any way he could.

Sung had made it to the back hatch, and he knew one thing for sure: there was no way he could even attempt to lift this. Even with the others helping, he couldn’t strain himself _at all_ , lest he risk more damage and alert them to his condition. Speaking of the others, they rounded the corner a moment later.

“About the communicators,” Sung said as he spun around to meet them, slapping on a bright grin. “They can’t send or receive audio at all. They’re like old pagers from Earth, just with this little keypad for you to type your messages on. It’ll light up and let out a little beep when it gets a message. As for actually sending messages, you can either select the recipients from this column or press ‘ALL’ to send it to, well, _all_ of us. As for which button sends to who, I think that’s pretty self-explanatory. They _are_ color coded, and I think you guys can figure it out. Any questions?”

Before the group had time to even think up a question, Sung jumped with a sudden idea. “Oh! And they’re all connected to the main computer on this ship! They act as tracking beacons on there, so we should all show up on the map in the bridge. Just in case, you know.”

Meouch had to admit Sung thought ahead when it came to these little communicators, even if they were potentially weapons of mass destruction.

“Now who’s going to help me with this door?”

Sung bent down and readied himself to start pulling on the massive thing. The other three shared a look as Meouch shrugged, and they bent down and started pulling.

“Doc,” Meouch grunted out, “I gotta tell ya something.”

Sung shot him a worried look, mind suddenly racing with doubt. For a moment he almost forgot to make it look like he was actually straining himself, and so redoubled his efforts.

Then the lock gave and the door slid open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long can Sung keep his secret?


	4. Pink and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our group breaks off into the desert-bound team and the lone ship-bound mechanic. How will they fare against this unknown world?

Pastel pink.

Hill after hill of pastel pink.

That was it.

No people. No buildings. Not even a cloud.

Nothing but pastel pink sand dunes that seamlessly blended into a dusty pink sky as far as any of their eyes could see.

Sung took a tentative step forward, carefully stepping down the ramp and into the fine pink sand. Sung’s physiology was unique, and that was being generous. He was always able to adapt to essentially any environment long before he put in the Prismatic Core. That was the nature of his species. He also knew general things about the new environment. He could taste it, both literally and metaphorically. He knew with just a quick sniff what would be poison as his body started its invisible shift to its surroundings. He had his limits, of course. Certain things he truly couldn’t adapt to, but little things like pressure or air mixture shifts were simple adjustments. Which is why, without question, Sung was always the first to jump out of the ship. He would either come running back or wave the others out, keenly aware of the short and long term effects.

This time, however, he wasn’t so sure. Everything felt slowed down and muddled because of his damaged Core. He’d been having some trouble merely _walking_. He wasn’t so sure he could tap into those ancient traits as easily.

He tried anyway. With both feet firmly planted in the sand, he took a deep breath. Nothing immediately felt off, which was a good sign. The very fine sand was closer to powder, and a small puff of dust was kicked into the air if he so much as moved his littlest toe. The air felt normal. Decent pressure, or at least within tolerable levels. It seemed to smell of oxygen and nitrogen, so it was breathable to all of them and was also incredibly dry. _But…_ He licked his lips. There was something else. Something else was in the air, and he couldn’t quite place it. It didn’t _seem_ immediately deadly, considering he was still standing, and it felt largely harmless.

_Felt…_

That’s what Sung was afraid of. He was going by feeling. He couldn’t think clearly. That primal part of his brain was still active and told him this place was _okay for now_ , but the analytical portion that would know exactly what he’s tasting and how long he could stay was almost completely clouded over.

That dull pain in his chest took all of his focus, stopping him from thinking clearly.

“How is it, Doc?”

Sung spun to face his teammates, a pink puff circling his legs. _How long have I been standing here?_ “Everything seems fine to me. There’s just this taste that I can’t quite place, but it doesn’t seem dangerous.”

Havve and Phobos stepped out of the ship. Meouch, however, seemed apprehensive.

_Sung’s always sure._

With a sigh, he stepped into the small dust cloud his teammates had made with their few movements. “I would offer to scan the planet, but all of the fine scanners are out. We’ve only got topographical and targeted locators, which are basically acting like old sonar and radar. Neither of them can tell us what this sand pit is made out of. You got anything else on the taste?”

“It’s a little bitter, a little metallic,” he swallowed the odd taste and shrugged, truly admitting defeat. “That’s all I’m getting. I really must have a concussion or something from the crash.”

 _Or something…_ He flashed a smile for reassurance.

“If it’s the best we can do, then we’ll just have to do better…” Meouch mumbled to himself. “That decides it. Doc, I’m not going out there with you.”

“What? Why?” He looked heartbroken.

Meouch sighed, doing his best to ignore that puppy dog eye. “I’ve gotta stay here and start repairs. If I can get at least the subspace engines online by the time you guys get back, then I could fit the new Time Crystal in while we’re in flight. I might even be able to get the fine sensors online and tell ya what you’re tasting.”

Sung didn’t like it when he didn’t know something. He actually hated it when he didn’t know something he was _supposed_ to know. If it wasn’t for his Core, he would’ve tackled Meouch in excitement from the mere implication that he could tell him what that off taste was. Instead, he settled for a bright smile and a, “if you think it’s for the best.”

“I do. I’ll be watching your progress from here while I get us _at least_ up to Interstellar Code.”

Sung smiled a bit. Meouch may have been a smuggler, but his ships were always up to code. The lion-man just couldn’t stand a ship if it didn’t follow all of the rules and guidelines. “I’ll see you when we get back, Commander!” Sung pulled a mock salute and started up the side of the small crater their ship had made.

Meouch sighed, eyes narrowing in concern and voice dropping low. “Keep an eye on him.” He glanced between Havve and Phobos, who both nodded. His gaze landed on the robot. “You’ve already downloaded the map?” All he got was a nod in response. “Good. Now you might want to give him a hand.” Meouch motioned toward Sung, who had gotten about halfway up the dune before the soft sand gave way. Half sliding back down and utterly surrounded by pink dust, Sung was still trying to make his way up. The other two desert-bound teammates made their way towards their fumbling friend. With some trying, all three made it over the first dune, the Felinal watching them all the way despite all of the dust they were kicking up.

Meouch, meanwhile, was upset. That old sixth sense of his was kicked into high gear, making some of the hairs along his spine bristle. Ever since they hit orbit, something had felt wrong. He couldn’t place it, but he knew they shouldn’t be here. He knew that something about this entire planet was _wrong_. That feeling had been steadily growing in him, festering and demanding action be taken. Meouch knew he couldn’t do much right now, so he just resigned himself to work on the ship. Hopefully his nearly panicking senses would calm down the more he repaired.

Hopefully they’ll be off of this apparent wasteland before his healthy concern turns into all out paranoia.

* * *

Sung had seen Earth’s deserts. He was even intimately familiar with some of them, but none of them compared to the sheer majesty of this. Rolling dunes of that luscious pink sand coupled with that enchanting dusty sky. There wasn’t a cloud, but instead a double sun met him when he looked up. It truly was beautiful.

Havve started walking and the other two trailed behind, Sung taking in the wonder of it all and Phobos on guard, hand never leaving the hilt of his sheathed sword.

“You know, back on Earth they have pink sand beaches. Some of them are caused by Homotrema Rubrum, which is a type of foraminifera that’ll get smashed against the beaches. These little--and I mean _little_ \--guys are red and are what end up making the beaches pink since the coral they’re on gets smashed in the break.”

And thus started Sung’s seemingly unending monologue.

If Phobos had ears, they would have been talked off within the first five minutes. Sung was very chatty today, something Phobos decided was from the excitement of an adventure on a whole new world. Havve was the complete opposite, Phobos noted. The robot was completely silent, and not just because of his broken voice box. Back before he even had a voice box, Havve would talk to Sung through some sort of telepathic link the two shared. Sung would almost always physically talk back, forgetting he could just think his words to Havve. That one sided dialogue had yet to happen between the apparent telepaths, Phobos noticed. At a bare minimum Sung would have paused his speech even momentarily to listen to whatever Havve was sending him, yet Sung still hadn’t stopped talking and Havve marched on towards _wherever_ it was they were going.

“--and that’s how _black_ sand is made, but considering we can’t see any of it around here I’d say it’s safe to assume this place is volcano free.”

Sung continued on, for once blissfully unaware of the others’ thoughts.

They were crossing over the top of one of the taller sand dunes when Phobos saw _it_ . It looked like just a pool of pure blue water with little tints of green surrounding it, and then another clear ring of purity surrounding that. They’d been walking for who knows how long in this increasingly hot desert with two suns beating down on him. Powder was kicked up with every step and it stayed up, so the air was insanely dry. _Thirsty_ was a mild term, and being a Scarabille he unquestionably needed water much more frequently than Sung or Havve. He started down the sand dune, one step at a time, fully intending to dive headfirst into bliss.

With one mouthy inhale, Sung had stalled his speech. Something was different on top of the dune, he could _taste_ it. Or rather, he couldn’t taste it. The air here was suddenly a lot less bitter and a lot less metallic, and yet there was this undertone of death. Some odorless death that wafted nearby with the faint smell of rotten eggs.

He looked down one side of the dune and then the other, and that’s when he saw _it_. It was a pool of death, he was sure of it. The liquid that looked a little too perfect, a little too electric blue and emerald green. It was sulfuric acid. Even with his dulled intuition, there was no doubt in his mind. Earth had these deceptive pools, and he learned fast to stay far away from them. The gas they released was poison, and their water was acid.

No, this planet didn’t have volcanoes. It had blistering pools of instant death.

_And Phobos is heading right for it!_

Sung’s brain worked overtime as he bit back on the pain. The Scarabille’s respirator was built to suck in more oxygen, not filter it. If Phobos were to touch that invisible cloud hovering above the pool, he’d be dead in milliseconds.

“Phobos! Stop!”

And he jumped down the dune after his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just what is this planet made of?


	5. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sung, Phobos, and Havve push through the desert's dangers as Meouch fights back his building paranoia through repair after repair.

Sung dashed down the dune, each sinking step straining him and his Core. Phobos thankfully stopped and turned around, confusion written all over his face, as Sung grabbed him and tried to haul him back up the dune. He felt his Core screaming at him, begging for him to stop, as the protective lens continued to heat up. Havve met the two mere moments later, grabbing them effortlessly and practically carrying them up the dune. Sung practically fully relaxed into Havve’s grip, taking in every moment of rest as he could as he willed his chest to cool down.

Once they reached the top, it took all of Sung’s strength to keep him upright. He could feel it. One of the prisms had cracked, and maybe even a small piece had broken off. He couldn’t be sure without a proper physical inspection, but all he had to go on was that discharge of energy that still traveled through him from when he took that first step towards Phobos.

That sudden discharge is what let him keep going. The moment he turned, Sung knew he wouldn’t be able to run far, but his broken Core had finally helped him. That discharge, although exhilarating, was more like a sudden shock of adrenaline. He could already feel the power fading as the pain returned, coming in stronger waves now.

Havve dropped both of his teammates at the top of the dune. He shifted his weight, crossed his arms, and did his best to give Sung a “what the hell was that” look despite his stone face. His lights flicked between Phobos and Sung, waiting for one of them to talk. Phobos was still stunned, not entirely sure what had just happened. Sung was breathing slow, his hands hidden behind his back.

Little did the others know, Sung was doing his best to steady his breathing and calm his quaking hands.

Phobos turned to Sung.  _ “Does  _ _ someone _ _ want to tell me what just happened?” _

“It’s,” he swallowed and focused on not letting the words out in a huff. “It’s sulfuric acid. I’m sure of it.”

Phobos dropped his hands, any witty retort immediately dashed away.

“It’s faint, but I caught the smell. And look at the color,” he quickly gestured to the pool, locking his still shaking hand behind his back after his friends turned towards the poison. “It’s too blue and green, a clear sign of the acid.” They turned back towards him. “One more step and you would’ve gotten a lung full of hydrogen sulfide,” a light bulb went off in the back of Sung’s mind, “which is probably why it’s so dry here. Any water molecules in the atmosphere would have reacted with the acid…” He trailed off, putting together little things about this mysterious planet.

Phobos waved a hand in front of Sung, pulling him back to the present.  _ “Thanks,” _ he carefully signed.

“Don’t mention it, ‘bos! I owe you a couple anyway.” And with that, Sung marched off in the direction they were heading in earlier. That little charge of energy had yes to fully dissipate. If anything, it was constant. He got lucky, Sung realized. A shard must be slowly leaking energy, but he still couldn’t be sure. Regardless, Sung was going to take this little gift and cherish it for as long as he could.

Phobos, still standing atop the dune with Havve, watched Sung walk away with a raised eyebrow.  _ “I thought  _ _ we _ _ were supposed to be watching  _ _ him _ _.” _ Phobos’ jutting fingers conveyed as much sarcasm as a natural voice.

Havve shrugged in response and marched after Sung. He turned their one-eyed friend exactly 30 degrees to the right, and continued ahead of him in the new direction. Sung, seemingly not missing a beat, kept a steady pace behind Havve. Phobos silently sighed, casting a look down the dune to the deceptive pool.

_ Just what exactly is this planet? _

* * *

The moment he was back in the ship, Meouch started his repairs. Any panel that was even  _ slightly _ out of place was pushed back into its groove, all wires hooked back into their appropriate channels. As he walked back to the Bridge, a wave of restoration followed him. Those simple fixes, however, were minor. They were just little things he could quickly do as he mulled over what he should  _ actually _ do to start his repairs.

The moment he was on the Bridge, he was typing command after command into the Console. One after the other, four bright little dots appeared on the topographical map. Right by their ship’s orange beacon was a little blue dot. Meouch’s hand drifted to the little box that was strapped to his hip.

_ That must be me. _

About halfway between their ship and the green dot were three lights clumped together. Red, yellow, and white spots glowed at Meouch from the map, steadily making their way towards the structure. Then, rather suddenly and one after the other, they moved down into a low lying spot only to rush back up.

Call him paranoid, but Meouch’s old Felinal intuition told him something was wrong. He pulled the little box of radiation off of his hip and typed out a quick message.

_ Everything alright? _

After some consideration, he pressed the white button. Phobos would be too wordy and Sung, judging by how he’s been, may not give him a direct answer at all. Havve would be completely upfront with him and be the quickest to respond.

Within seconds, the box lit up and made a noise. The message it displayed read,  _ Avoided a pool of sulfuric acid. Continuing on. _

Meouch was never a chemist. He never really learned the names of crazy complex substances and what they did. That was more Sung’s department. Meouch knew mechanical things. He could build a Time Warp Ship from the ground up, understanding every little thing about it, so he also knew Time Crystals. He could go on about everything from how the crystals are used to how they’re made. That little detail was only important for Time Warp Ships, not at all relevant for basic Stellar Ships of this era, and honestly only relevant for beings directly involved in Time Crystal industries. Meouch happened to know about it because he was their mechanic.

No, Meouch didn’t know much about chemicals, but he did know that Time Crystals, one of the universe’s hardest crystals, were painstakingly formed with sulfuric acid. That liquid was one of the few that were corrosive enough but also reacted safely with the crystals to shape them for use. If that liquid could eat through Time Crystals like they were nothing, then there was no telling what they could do to organic beings.

That decided it for Meouch. He was going to get as many fine scanners online as he could and fully map out any and all pools of that acid. He’ll relay the information to the rest of his team and do his best to figure out what the rest of this waste land was made out of.

_ That’s the plan, at least. _

With his nerves slightly calmed, Meouch pulled off some paneling under the Console and slid under, taking the first step in his endless series of repairs.

* * *

_ Step 278 of 362. _

Havve had been keeping careful track of how far they’d been and how long was left. He’d calculated the number of steps necessary to reach their goal before they left, keeping every single one of his own steps perfectly measured to meet that goal.

What he didn’t account for was the heat. He didn’t have time to take night and day measurements, so it really was anyone’s guess for how hot it was going to get and for how long. Judging by how powdery the sand was, it was hot enough to keep most of the water evaporated so the sulfuric acid pools could react with it.

_ Not good. _

No water did keep the humidity down, but it also meant they could become dehydrated quickly.

_ Step 302 of 362. _

Havve took a quick look back at his teammates. Sung was still ceaselessly talking, every other word prompting a new train of thought. He definitely seemed invigorated, which was probably the warmth from the planet. Phobos had definitely seen better days. He came from a much damper and cooler planet, so this dry desert was almost the exact opposite to what his physiology needed. His respirator was doing its best to compensate, but there was only so much that could be done.

_ Step 315 of 362. _

Just to be safe, Havve ran an internal systems check on himself. What was left of his organic parts had started sweating, which could only mean one thing: his cooling system was at maximum power. His scan and the accompanying warning that popped up confirmed it. If it got any hotter, which it slowly was, he’ll have to start shutting systems off. The worrying part was that he wasn’t running anything major. He was counting and walking. The only other thing he’d done recently was that low-power systems check for a moment  _ after _ he started sweating.

He went to brush his hand against his leg only to immediately pull it away. He had intended to discreetly wipe the droplets from his fingers onto the metal, but he felt the heat radiating off of his white plating a full two inches away. It was guaranteed first degree burns from his own sweat boiling from the heat.

Havve knew that if he had enough power to run infrared sensors, then he would have been absolutely glowing in the worst way. That truly was a terrifying concept.

_ Step 332 of 362. _

Then he saw  _ something _ , what seemed to be a solid structure just barely peeking over the next dune. He wanted to run forward, to yell that they’d finally made it, but he couldn’t. He was effectively reduced to silence as he steadily marched closer.

Sung continued talking and Phobos breathed hard behind him as they ascended the dune, the twin suns beating on their backs.

_ Step 355 of 362. _

They’d made it to the top of the final dune. The structure itself was an old ship, dating back at least 500 years. Almost exactly in front of them, down the dune, a hatch was missing. Despite that, the inside was still dark. The gray sides had been sandblasted clean of paint from time on the planet. It was big, too. Much too big to be a minimal crew Star Hopper, but maybe just big enough to be a Colony Ship. A very small Colony Ship at that, with the ancient satellite just high enough to be seen from the bottom of the dune they stood on top of now. Those old rigs, which were hardly used anymore in the Light-Speed Era, were once flying cities that toured their population around the cosmos.

They were around long before the mere conception of Time Warp Ships, but they used Time Crystals. The beings of that time had discovered Time Crystals, but at the time they were called Thorianite. In retrospect, they had very little in common with the radioactive mineral, but that was the only substance even remotely similar to Time Crystals. Despite all the unknowns and potential dangers surrounding them, beings of that far away time still used them in their ships because of how powerful they were. They wouldn’t unlock the full potential of the crystals for tens of centuries.

Havve thought they were lucky,  _ almost too lucky _ , as he scrutinized the structure.

“Oh my God,” Sung breathed, trailing just behind Phobos as they reached the top of the dune. “It’s a Colony Ship! Meouch is going to  _ lose his mane _ when he finds out it’s one of these old things!” Sung excitedly typed out his message to the Felinal as he walked down the dune. Havve looked to Phobos, silently begging for some stability.

Phobos, catching the pointed look, glanced between the robot, their insane friend, and merely shrugged. His gaze lingered, however, on the ship.  _ “How strange,” _ he signed out,  _ “it being here, of all places.” _

Havve nodded in agreement as they ambled down the dune after Sung, quickly catching up to him, and stepped into the inky blackness.

_ Step 362 of 362. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark despite the sun? That doesn’t seem right, or does it?


	6. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Out-Team makes it in the ship, but trouble still seems to find them. Meouch, meanwhile, has found what this planet is really made out of and has to take action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I normally like to keep myself out of this until the end, but I want to cut in for a minute to sincerely thank everyone that’s read or commented or left kudos. I always write, but I never get around to publishing. With this being the first thing I’ve ever published, I’d like to sincerely thank everyone who’s happened upon it. Love you guys! <3

The ship was cold. It wasn’t a normal cold, either. It was the kind of cold that crept in, sinking deep into your bones and taking a permanent residence in your soul. Compared to the blistering heat of the desert, it was a welcome change for Havve and Phobos.

Sung, however, was thriving off of the heat. Without his Prismatic Core, his body was physically unable to keep him warm enough. Now, as he felt his core body temperature plummet, he was seriously missing that heat. It even crossed his mind to run back outside and bask in the sun, but he quickly squashed that idea.

_ They would know something’s wrong. _

“Cold in here, huh?” Sung broke the silence, his words’ echo serving as the only audible reply.

_ “It’s kind of nice,” _ Phobos silently signed.

“Yeah, I guess. Anyway, where are we heading, Havve?”

Havve’s eyes dimmed and he stilled. In his mainframe, he mapped out possible pathways to the TIme Crystal. Using general maps of Colony Ships and what his hardware could discern about the inside from quick glances at the outside, Havve’s inner computer drew up the most likely path. He immediately turned right and marched down the dark hallway.

The inside of the ship, aside from being ice cold, was dark. Even Havve, whose bionic eye always adjusted immediately, took a moment to let the darkness properly settle in his vision. The darkness, like the cold, permeated even the thickest skin and shell. It consumed every corner of every hallway they could see. From what they  _ could _ see, the ship couldn’t physically be in worse shape. Paneling along the walls and ceiling had fallen out, the once sturdy plastic slightly decaying around the edges. Wires, spewing out from every hole, were frayed and their rubber casings torn open. The metal floor below them was warped and every step creaked as the metal fought to keep itself together.

Havve was in the lead, his red lights doing their best to pierce the darkness. Just behind him was Sung, doing his best to tamp down increasingly frequent shivers. He kept a careful hand near his Core, sucking in the heat it spewed through his palm but also blocking what little light came out. No matter what, Sung mustn’t let the others know how dim it is or how cold he is, which is why he was so silent. He knew if he opened his mouth his teeth would chatter incessantly, and he had to conserve every ounce of energy the desert had gifted him. Phobos, almost the complete opposite of Sung, still had a careful hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. This sudden shift towards the frigid had reinvigorated him for now, but he had to be careful. If he let his core temperature get too low, he’d freeze. Although they could take tons of physical damage, Scarabille were sensitive to their environment. The smallest shift in temperature could kill them. Phobos, because of his own physiology, was keeping a careful sense of his body temperature. The heat from the desert was still stored in his system, but he had to stay aware of how deep the cold cut him.

A shiver rocked Sung’s body, catching Phobos’ attention. He reached ahead and tapped Sung’s shoulder.  _ “You cold?” _

“Y-yeah,” he did his best to stop his teeth from clacking together, “g-guess I’m taking a b-bit longer to ad-adjust. Must be t-that concussi-ion.” With a slightly shaking hand, Sung tapped his temple for emphasis.

Phobos believed him without question. It wasn’t that Phobos didn’t question Sung, he just  _ knew _ him. Sung wasn’t known to lie. He always ensured he told as much of the truth as he could  _ especially _ to his teammates. Sung firmly believed that a transparent leader made a good leader. That, and he hated how he felt when he lied. Sung remembered little of his childhood, but one thing he knew for a fact was that lying was heavily disapproved of by his family. He’s avoided lying his entire life.

That’s why, right now, Sung felt utterly awful. At first he’d been convincing himself that it wasn’t  _ really _ lying. In all honesty, he probably did have a concussion. As his symptoms kept adding up, however, it kept getting harder and harder to even convince himself that even half of his systems were from some simple concussion. Every last one of his problems he knew, without question, were because of his shattered Core.

His  _ quickly _ fading Core, Sung noticed as the light and heat from his chest dimmed once again. In the desert, it had been a steady flow of power and light, albeit much lower than normal. Now, in this frozen ship, his Core was working overtime to keep his body temperature at a liveable level as a bare minimum. He felt himself fall colder and colder, each shaking step into the dark pulled him closer and closer to potential unconsciousness.

_ Potential. _

That’s what he was holding onto. It wasn’t guaranteed that he’d pass out-- _ or die _ \--yet. He still had time to find the sender of the distress beacon and the Time Crystal before he absolutely had to get out of here.

A shock from his Core rocked Sung’s body. He stumbled forward and reached out for a wall. His hand never made contact. He fell into a hallway off of the main corridor. He hit the floor, but didn’t stop falling. The brittle metal shattered under him. He fell through the wiring and rusting trusses, through the ceiling of the floor below, then down again. His back hit the floor. The air rushed out of his lungs. Sung simply lied there, immobile and unsure if the metal below him would disintegrate. He took in a shaky breath, very carefully let it out, and took in another.

_ I’m still breathing. _

His chest throbbed with his racing hearts, the dim light it emitted oscillating just as fast. Above him was pure darkness. The only way he could find the hole he’d fallen out of was because it was ever so slightly darker there. Then Havve’s red eyes poked out from the darkness. He raised a shaking thumbs up to them, a weak smile gracing his mouth. He felt a sudden buzzing by his hip, momentarily distracting him from the crimson lights. He slowly pulled his communicator from it’s pouch and raised it to his eye.

_ Are you alright? _

It was a message from Phobos, who’s head Sung could only assume was also over the hole. It was too dark to know for sure.

_ I think so. We apparently need to be careful. Lucky we got as far as we did without falling earlier. _ Sung sent the message to Phobos. Above him Havve’s eyes turned away, illuminating Phobos’s helmet and communicator. He watched as Phobos typed out another message. Sung never moved from the floor, and read what he was sent.

_ Stay there. We’re going to come get you. We’re going to find a safe way to get down. _

Sung let out a long sigh of breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the tension starting to leave his abdomen.  _ I’ll be waiting _ , he typed and sent over. He could just barely make out Phobos’ wave under Havve’s lights before he was plunged into darkness.

Sung’s double heart beat had slowed to a below average rate. The light from his Core had dimmed, leaving the ceiling above him gone from his eye. With shaking hands, he carefully placed his palms on the floor below him. Ever so slowly, he sat up. He knew he couldn’t stay here. The plating below him was surely ready to break from his fall.

His entire body was shaking. Whether his bodily quake was from the shock of the fall or the cold, he couldn’t be sure. He crawled towards where he assumed a wall would be. After groping in the darkness, he finally found the paneling. One hand-hold at a time, he carefully pulled himself to his feet. His stance was unsteady. He weaved as he walked, one step at a time with his hands trailing along the wall. He pushed his toe against the metal in front of him, testing the stability of it, and took a careful step.

His Core barely lit the way ahead of him. It’s dim light was catching some of the wall to his left, but the light couldn’t reach out more than half a meter. His back was also throbbing, but he didn’t focus much on it. If he stopped to think about how much pain he was in, Sung knew he’d surely collapse in agony.

So he kept moving forward. He  _ had _ to keep moving forward and find Phobos or Havve or  _ someone! _

“Help! Someone please help!”

Sung stopped immediately. That wasn’t him, that couldn’t have been Phobos, and it definitely wasn’t Havve. He looked around, hoping that something would penetrate the darkness.

“Someone? Please!”

The voice was pleading, screaming for aid from anyone who could hear.

Sung, being someone who couldn’t refuse a call for help, responded. “Where are you?” He called out as loud as he could. His voice echoed off of the walls.

“I’m here! Come quick!” The voice called out, like a direct line into Sung’s mind that pierced through the pain that consumed his body.

He couldn’t say why, but he knew where the voice was coming from. Sung loosely decided it was his empathic abilities coming back, and pushed off of the wall. He walked into the darkness, desperately searching for that voice.

* * *

Meouch had been working for hours.

Communications? Repaired.

Most sensors? Operational.

Paneling and wiring? You better believe it was all tucked away and in its place!

He had set up what computer systems he could to reconfigure and reboot themselves. In the meantime, he had stepped outside with a shovel in hand. Ports on the outer hull were blocked by the sand. He had long since taken his shirt off, tying it around his forehead to try and keep the pelting suns off of him. Despite the heat and unending work, every step he took towards leaving was calming his nerves.

“Stupid Sung and his stupid empathy…” he muttered, shaking himself and sending drops of sweat and particles of sand all around him. He kept digging out the atmospheric pressure port, only to stop when a buzzing from his hip caught his attention. He had pulled out his Earthen cell phone of all things, linked it to the ship's computer, and set an alarm to go off once the system was done dissecting the planet.

He speared the shovel into the sand and ran back into the ship, kicking up pastel pink powder behind him. Meouch dashed through the clean hallways, making his way back to the Bridge. Once there, he quickly typed into the Console. The computers responded and the brown topographical map shimmered and shifted. It suddenly lit up with color. Bright blue pools filled in some low lying areas and anywhere else, aside from the now gray structure, was the same pastel pink as the sand outside. He continued typing into the Console. The Ecological Screen at his Console lit up, displaying two clear warnings.

The first was expected. All of the blue areas on the map were lakes or rivers of sulfuric acid. All of the associated warnings came with it, namely to stay very far away. The second, however, was about the sand. Apparently that pink powder Meouch had been working in for the past few hours was manganese (II) chloride. Meouch knew nothing about this substance, which is why he was thankful the computer did. Apparently, it reacted with the acid to make hydrochloric acid (even in Meouch’s limited chemistry knowledge, he knew hydrochloric acid was bad news) and manganese (II) sulfate, which only had problems in high doses. The other glaring warning on the screen was that a huge side effect from the manganese-based substances was Manganism. Meouch skimmed over most of the information about the illness, but one thing stuck out to him. The bright red and white flashing letters read: **WARNING! LEVELS OF MANGANESE ON THIS PLANET ARE UNSAFE! DO NOT BE EXPOSED FOR LONGER THAN 3.4 HOURS BEFORE SEEKING IMMEDIATE SHELTER!**

Meouch stilled, taking in the weight of the words. That old sixth sense was screaming at him.  _ This! _ This is what he knew was wrong here! His friends had gone out into this  _ death planet _ completely exposed because Sung thought it was safe. It was  _ probably _ safe, that’s what he said and Meouch knew they shouldn’t have gone.

_ And I let them go anyway… _

He pulled out his gamma ray communicator with a growl, intending to demand everyone haul ass back to the safety of their ship. Before he could articulate his panicking thoughts, the little box lit up with a message from Havve.

_ Structure was an old Colony Ship wreck. Sung fell. Trying to rescue him. May need help, but definitely need lights. Will report back soon. _

Meouch’s growl turned into a very tired sigh. “Leave it to Sung…”

He was no longer concerned with the Time Crystal. He had gotten the subspace engines semi-operational, so they should be able to leave this hellscape once he finishes those repairs.

Knowing Havve, he wasn’t leaving that ruin without Sung. Knowing Phobos, he wasn’t leaving that wreck without the Time Crystal. Knowing Sung, he wasn’t leaving this planet until he found the source of that damn distress beacon.

Meouch had no choice but to head out into the desert himself to bring them back. His sixth sense screamed at him at the mere thought of stepping back into the desert, but he shoved it down. He had to go out there and get them himself. He couldn’t risk leaving them out another moment.

In the back of the Bridge, he opened the emergency supplies closet and pulled out a full-protection helmet. He pulled his shirt back over himself, slipped on a protective jacket from the closet, put on the helmet, and finally strapped on a pair of gloves. He wasn’t taking any chances with Manganism. He’d already been exposed for far too long.

Linking the helmet’s HUD to the ship’s computer, he ensured he still had his blaster strapped to his hip and the communicator on the opposite side. He marched to the only open door and climbed up the dune as the twin suns set behind him, his sixth sense screaming at him to turn back all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A voice in the darkness, now where have I seen that before?


	7. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meouch makes it out into the desert, battling the wasteland’s perils as he tries to reach the Colony Ship.

_ Fuck me, it’s hot! _

Meouch was trudging through the desert, one careful step at a time. The first sun had all but visibly set behind him, and the second one wasn’t too far behind. If there was one thing Meouch knew about desert planets, it was that their days were hot as hell while their nights froze everything over.

The exact time of the dual sunsets wasn’t exactly something Meouch took into account, considering he had no idea when that would happen. Minutes? Hours? He couldn’t be sure, but one glance at the cherry-red sky behind him told him he didn’t have long.

There wasn’t much he could do at this point except trudge forward, one cautious step at a time. He didn’t want to kick up too much dust. Wiggling his littlest toe kicked up a decent sized dust cloud! Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but Meouch wasn’t taking any chances. He had been outside of the ship working for 2 hours at most. He didn’t want to spend very long in the wasteland, and he  _ especially _ didn’t want to kick up more dust than his respirator could handle.

Meouch walked up a ridge, careful not to slip too far down the left bank of the soft dune. It looked like there was one of those damned sulfuric acid pools just  _ waiting _ for him to run into it.

_ It is tempting… _

The Commander smashed that thought back. Even if it  _ looked _ like a cool blue pool of refreshing water, it would kill him. Even if his respirator protected him from the gas, the liquid would eat him alive. He wasn’t going anywhere near it.

Ahead of him was what looked like a shift in the smoothness of the sand. It was a minor disturbance, something that the powder thrown around at the time had covered up. It wasn’t much, but it told him where he was. Someone had run down the dune, then was dragged back up. Pulling out that Earthen cell phone, he opened up the colored map he’d snapped a picture of before he left in case the HUD failed. Just his luck, the link connecting his helmet to the ship’s computer was severed a few dunes back. He chalked it up to the radio interference. Thanks to that worst case scenario picture, he knew where he was.

_ Halfway there! _

Meouch pocketed the older tech and kept moving forward. He didn’t have any time to waste.

As he was making his way up the next dune, the Commander felt something that made every hair on his body stand up. A gust of air had just blown by him. Normally, this would be fine. On any other warm planet, breezes were common and welcomed. Another gust blew from behind him, harder this time, and every fiber of his being screamed at him to  _ turn the fuck around now! _ Finally he made it to the top of the dune, not minding any of the dust he’d disturbed. What he saw sent his heart racing.

“Shit…”

There was a giant wall of pink consuming every dune he’d walked over and coming right for him.

Meouch staggered back, half-falling down the side of the dune. His instinct quickly took over and he turned and ran as fast as he could. Coming up the next dune, there were three things he realized. One, the desert storm could completely obscure all landmarks and stop him from reaching the others. Two, that much sand bearing down on him was guaranteed to clog his respirator and force him to take it off just to choke on more manganese. Three, he was going to die out here if he didn’t find shelter  _ now! _

At the top of each dune he paused for all of a few seconds to scan the land. He was desperately looking for something- _ anything! _ -that wasn’t endless pink. With each sinking step, he felt the wind push against him. That feeling, his mane in his face and the wind on his back, was something he was clinging to. If the wind shifted and he found it pulling him towards the storm, it’d be too late. The storm would be too close. He needed to find the ship.

The Felinal scampered up dune after dune, running on all fours for most of it, and lept down the other side. His feet barely touched the ground as he flew over each mountain of sand.

Then the wind changed.

He felt it start to pull against him as he dashed up a towering dune. The sand below his feet was already flying into the storm. He was going to die out here, and there was nothing he could do. The hellish dust devil was going to swallow him whole, suffocate him, and bury his corpse.

_ At least the others are safe. _

He made it to the top of the dune. With despair in his eyes, he carefully scanned the desert. There was nothing but dimming light and rolling dunes as he scanned from right to left. Then he saw something. Nothing that immediately screamed Colony Ship, but something that looked like a dark corner of some solid object peeking out of a dune to his left. He had almost passed it completely. With a flame of hope in his chest, he haphazardly charged toward the structure as the sand storm closed in. He bounded over the corner of the dune and smacked his hand against the structure. The sound reverberated throughout the metal. Metal that happened to be in the shape of an old Colony Ship.

_ It’s real! _

With a breathless laugh, Meouch sped down the side of the ship. One hand trailed along the sandblasted exterior, keeping him grounded, as his eyes searched for an opening. His visibility dropped dramatically with each step he took. He wasn’t going to give up here, that was for damn sure. He was  _ so close! _ And yet, as the seconds ticked by he felt the sand smash into him more. He felt as it got harder to breathe. He felt a sudden hole in the metal.

_ A hole?! _

The Commander dove in without a second thought. He rolled to the wall next to the opening, keeping himself clear of the pelting sand. He ripped off the respirator and took in a giant lungful of air. He sat there, quietly breathing in the cool air of the ship, thinking about what to do next.

He stood up and brushed himself off, getting as much sand off of him as he could. Each brush through his coat brought a new puff of the dusty pink poison. He made sure to not inhale any of it. Now that he didn’t have a sandstorm on his ass, Meouch could safely change the filter in his respirator. With a quick pop and a couple of clicks, he snapped the clean device back into his facemask. The air may feel clearer in the hull, but he didn’t really know how much manganese was floating around.

_ Can’t be too careful on this death planet. _

He had packed a bag of general supplies that was still strapped to him. The most important thing in there, however, were the spare filters and three compact facemasks. He was going to shove each one of those onto his teammates, whether they wanted it or not. He may not have known much about their individual physiologies, but he knew that all of them breathed. It actually shocked Meouch when he realized even Havve did. He had been hearing it but not really minding it, only realizing that he actively sucked in and blew out air to stay alive when he confronted Sung about his suspicions.

After he ensured his friends were safe, he was absolutely going to chastise Sung for jumping headfirst into this situation without pausing long enough to turn back and get respirators. Sung was running with vague feelings about possible dangers that he’d decided to ignore. Sung never did anything halfway. Sung never  _ guessed _ about what was in the air. He always knew. The Commander was furious with himself for letting it get this far. He should have done something, but he listened to his own intuition and stayed behind.

_ Maybe it was for the best? _

With a growl, he turned on the flashlight on the side of his helmet and started down the corridor to his left.

The ship itself was nice and cool, a welcome change to the blistering sunsets. It was also very,  _ very _ old. The decaying paneling, the brittle metal, and the frayed wiring all screamed of centuries of lack of use or general upkeep. The Felinal very carefully padded around the edges of the floor panels, doing his best to stay where the metal reinforcing should be.

“Havve? Phobs? Sung? You guys here?” Only an echo responded.

He pulled out the gamma communicator and typed out a message.  _ In the ship looking for you. _ He sent it to all.

He kept walking with the little box in his hand, waiting for it to light up.

He passed by offshoots of the main corridor in complete silence.

He noticed his flashlight lit up a good few meters in front of him.

Seconds turned to minutes as he kept walking, communicator in hand.

He eventually took a glance down at the device, fearing what its silence could mean.

_ Havve always responds back immediately… _

Unease crept into Meouch’s soul as he walked through the cool ship. He kept his footsteps quiet and his ears strained just in case  _ something _ responded to him. The only sound he heard was the consistent hissing of his respirator. He slipped the communicator back into its pouch and hovered his hand over his blaster. Call him paranoid, but that sixth sense knew something was wrong here. He could feel it in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silence is very unlike them, right?


	8. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team continues to scour the ship, but not in the way they had wanted.

Phobos had been walking for what seemed like miles. He being just a few paces behind Havve, the two had snaked their way through the crumbling ship. Each step was very careful, never loud or hard in case the floor collapsed beneath them. They were completely silent, even their footsteps making minimal noise. The only sound was the ship itself, cracking and breathing against the outside.

Eventually Phobos had enough of the silence and broke it in the only way he could. He pulled the communicator from his hip and typed out a little message.  _ Sure is quiet in here… _ He pressed the white send button.

The twin box attached to Havve immediately lit up. Without a single misstep in his path, the robot pulled the device from its pouch and typed back.  _ Yes. _

Phobos bit back a laugh. It was just like Havve to be so oblivious.  _ Sung won’t hear us coming, you know. _

_ You make a good point, but I fear that excessive sound could cause the hull to cavitate and become damaged. _

_ I know, I was just looking for some conversation. _

_ Then why didn’t you lead with that? _

Phobos snickered under his breath and lightly punched Havve’s shoulder. The robot turned and shot him a stony look that conveyed a quirked eyebrow as best as it could.

They kept moving through the dark halls.

After some inner debate, Phobos typed another message.  _ I’m worried about Sung. _

Havve didn’t immediately respond. His consistent steps even slowed down for a moment as he read and re-read what Phobos sent him. Choosing his words very carefully, he responded.  _ So am I. _

Phobos leapt at the opening.  _ He’s been acting super weird since we got here. He’s been saying he’s fine when something is very clearly wrong, but I just can’t figure out what it is. Has he said anything to you? _

_ The only thing he’s mentioned was that “concussion,” which shouldn’t be affecting him like this or for this long. _

_ You think there’s something he’s not telling us? _

_ Unquestionably, and that’s what worries me. We need to find him. _

Havve and Phobos sped up their steps but didn’t dare run. They didn’t want the floor shattering beneath them.

Havve, too, was keeping something from Phobos. It was just a suspicion, nothing concrete, but something worrying nonetheless. It was how Sung had gripped at his chest when they crashed, how he definitely wasn’t physically alright, and how deflective he was being about himself. Havve hated that he’d only just put it all together, and in hindsight all of the warning signs were glaringly obvious. He was only focused on getting the Time Crystal and getting the hell out of here, and at some point Sung dropped a rung on his priorities ladder.

It was clear Sung’s Core was damaged in the crash.

It was clear Sung hasn’t been able to repair it.

It was clear Sung will die without it.

Havve kept pressing forward with Phobos right on his heels. Each step will bring them closer to Sung, Havve was sure. They just needed to find him, get out of here, and go back to Earth where Sung could repair the Core. It was so simple, so insultingly simple, that Havve felt so blind that he hadn’t realized sooner. He may let Sung do what he wants, but he’s still Havve’s charge. He’s the one who Havve owes a life debt to, and he’s not going to let one little crash call it in early.

He felt the metal reverberate as his legs pounded against it. The cold air rushed by his exposed arms. Phobos was quietly keeping pace with him, knowing if Havve was running then they must be close. Havve hadn’t even realized he was running. He started to slow, one forceful step at a time, when the floor broke open.

Phobos only went down one level, his light body nowhere near powerful enough in a short free fall to break through another level.

Havve was exactly the opposite. The heavy metal and sharp angles of his plating pulled him deeper and deeper into the belly of the ship. Eventually he was able to grab onto a jutting piece of rebar and pull himself onto a ledge, but not before he’d realized something catastrophic. The hand he was now using to hang from the metal was the same hand he had been holding his communicator in mere seconds ago. With an aggravated sigh, he pulled himself onto the ledge and looked out into the gaping hole above him. There was nothing but shrapnel falling after him.

Phobos was simply lying there, catching his breath, when a thought occurred to him.  _ I need to find Havve! _ He scrambled to his feet, frantically searching his utility belt for that little box. Deciding that it must have fallen, he turned to the ground and swept his hands across the entire surface. He knocked into something, several somethings in fact, and pushed it all away. He crept closer to the hole, his feet cautious but his hands distressed. He pushed more shrapnel out of his way and into the hole. At least, he thought it was shrapnel. He was expecting Havve or Sung or Meouch to message him, for the little box to light up and bring him to it, and it did. Too bad it was also tumbling into the darkness. It was bright blue as it sunk into the inky black. Phobos watched it plummet past two pinpricks of red that could only be Havve.

Phobos and Havve were completely separated, well and truly alone.

* * *

How long had he been walking? Minutes? Hours? Days? He couldn’t be sure. The ship seemed to freeze everything. Every step, every thought, and every second was eaten by its darkness. He could barely see through the inky blackness. The only constant noise was his respirator pushing an abundance of air into his system.

Phobos had been carefully making his way through the corridors since the fall. He was listening for signs of anything and looking for some way to get to a lower level to find Havve. He jumped at any noise and chased after it, hoping that there was someone at the other side. His steps were silent, carefully measured out to ensure he wouldn’t lose his way. He wasn’t going to get lost in here.

He stepped on an especially loud creaking piece of metal and stopped. He waited, listening for some sort of response other than the echo.

“Hello? Is someone out there?”

Phobos jumped in surprise. He honestly didn’t expect to hear anything in response and had no plans for a reply of his own. He simply stepped on the metal again, squeaking out a pattern.

“Please hurry! I’m over here!”

And he took off after the voice. Phobos ran into the darkness, one light foot after the other, following the sporadic calls and squeaking the nearest piece of metal in response. Whenever he reached what he thought was an intersection, he squeaked twice to ask which way. The voice always responded back and he chased after it, deeper into the ship.

The more he listened, the more familiar the voice sounded. At first he thought it was Sung. He actually expected it to be Sung, but it wasn’t. It was something older, much older. He could’ve sworn it was…  _ But that’s impossible! _ There was no way someone from  _ there _ is here. They are long dead, anyway.

“Quickly! Here!”

But the more he listened, the more it sounded like  _ him _ .

“Bobo! I need you!”

Phobos stopped for a moment. That nickname. That  _ stupid _ nickname! Only one person had ever called him that, and he’d been dead a long time.

He took another careful step forward when he suddenly smelled smoke. And he was dashing again, running towards the darkness that didn’t seem so dark anymore. All he knew was that he had to get to Deimos-- _ to Deidei! _ \--as fast as he could.

He can’t let it happen again.

* * *

Havve was moving with unprecedented levels of care. He wasn’t going to let his emotions or movements get away from him again. Each step replied to the beats of his 808 in perfect rhythm, never out of sync.

His plan was to go up as quickly as possible. He was down who knows how many levels (his systems lost track in the dark fall), and he needed to start climbing. The easiest place to do that, according to the old maps, was the heart of the ship. The main Power Core provided easy access to all levels of the ship and was the most likely place where the Time Crystal would be. All he had to do was move inward and find the Core as quickly as he could. He blinked against the dark, wondering if it had somehow gotten slightly lighter. It was probably just his imagination, but he scanned anyway.

Then his bionic eye sparked.

Havve pulled off the metal mask and wiped the lens, assuming some sand from the outside had made its way in. The eye, instead of cooperating, just powered off to save itself. Apparently it was more sand than he thought. When he blinked his organic eye and looked back up, he was met with a terrifying sight. The dark halls had frozen thoroughly. He could see the frost on the walls as light refracted through the ice above him. He carefully walked around, worrying that the ice below him might crack.

Something deep inside of Havve knew this was wrong. He shouldn’t be here. Then again, it was always cold here. Ice isn’t that surprising, right? It’s expected in cold environments. These were his caves, anyway. He’s been here for a very long time. It’s all he knows anymore. And yet something was still off.

A crack reverberated down the hallway, landing on Havve.

_ There’s an invader. _

He followed the noise down the hall, deeper into the cavern.

* * *

He shuffled down the hall, one aching step at a time. It truly was taking all of Sung’s strength to stay up right, but he had to follow that voice.

_ I have to help! _

He was utterly exhausted, and the pounding in his chest didn’t help.

“Please hurry!”

It kept saying that, begging him to run to it, but he couldn’t. If he went too fast, then…

_ Best not to think about that now. _

All he had to do was find the source of the voice and they would help him as he helped them. He was sure of it.

He gripped to the wall as another shock wracked his body. Sung kept his feet grounded as he let the electricity flow over him. Once it calmed down enough for his world to stop spinning, he opened his eye to a rush of power. The prisms in his Core had been steadily chipping away, filling his being with pain followed by power every time. Now he had a little more energy than before, so he moved a little faster down the dark halls.

“Quickly, this way!”

Sung was going to find the being calling out to him, even if it killed him.

* * *

Meouch had been wandering the halls of this dark, cold ship for an hour at this point. Nothing terribly strange or exciting had happened, but that damned sixth sense was still on high alert. Instead of aimlessly wandering down the halls, he started making his way inward. One special thing about Colony Ships was that their Power Cores housed everything. Meouch knew that and he knew Havve knew that, so the Core was the place where he’d find his teammates and the Time Crystal. It only made sense.

“Someone please help me!”

Meouch jumped at the cry, instinctively sinking his claws into the wall. It wasn’t a very loud cry, in fact it was quite some distance away, but hearing it at all startled him the most. That definitely wasn’t Sung and it couldn’t be Havve or Phobos.

“Someone is here…” He whispered to himself, barely believing it.

He followed the voice, which happened to be in the same direction as the core.  _ Lucky me. _

A warning light on his mask suddenly lit up, stopping him in his hunt. It was his respirator. Apparently the filter needed to be changed immediately.

_ That can’t be right… _

He had just changed the filter. It couldn’t have clogged again that fast especially in a safe environment away from the poisonous sand. Sighing, he pulled out a new filter anyway and swapped them out just in case.

He almost dropped the old filter when he saw it. The entire film was magenta. So much powder had accumulated that it even fell onto his fingers. He threw it down and shook his hand, doing his best to get the substance out of his fur. He wasn’t entirely sure what that was, but there was a lot of it. There was a terrifying amount of it. It was in the air, all around him.

And he was the only one with a respirator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The game is set. All the pieces are in place.


	9. Darkest Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phobos relives the most painful day of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic depictions of violence, minor character death, reference to drug use.

Phobos was still running, his fleet feet dancing around fire and crumbling ground.

_ I have to get back to the palace! _

He was so stupid for storming off earlier. One petty argument, and he’s in the air and across the city like a child. Of course they would be invaded today! Just his luck that it was the same day he got into an argument with-

Now wasn’t the time to worry about all of that. He kept running, closing in on the palace. He may be a young Lord, but his battle-ability was as good as any royal guard. His father made sure of it for both of them. Now, however, he didn’t dare take off into the sky. The smoke was too thick to fly through. His wings buzzed impatiently, fast enough to speed him along the ground but not enough power to properly take off. Phobos rounded the last corner, pulling out his sword and shield as he skidded to a stop in front of the palace.

His blood ran cold.

All of the guards were on the ground, broken and bloodied. Their wings violently ripped from their bodies, blood still pouring from the gaping holes in their backs. He quietly walked up to one of the bodies on the front line. He knew who it was even through the armor. His old mentor, Talos, lied twitching before him, the light slipping out of his eyes.

Phobos bit back on rising bile. Everything washed over him. The bodies. The pools of amber blood. The noxious smell of death. It assaulted his senses and brought him to his knees. The puke came back with a vengeance, forcing him to paint the stone below him with it.

This  _ monster _ had invaded his home, burned his cities, murdered his friends, but  _ why? _ What could compel someone to decimate his peaceful home? Scarabille aren’t involved in interplanetary affairs and stay out of extraterrestrial trouble. What could have possibly happened to make someone hate them this much?

The young Lord gathered himself, shakily rising to his feet. He didn’t have time to mourn. The attacker was still here, and by the noise coming from the palace he had a good idea as to where. He dashed up the staircase and through the open doors, shield held securely in front of him and sword steady in his hand. He followed the clanking through the halls, quietly charging towards the invader. He passed paintings of his ancestors, or that’s what they used to be. The canvases were slashed through, scratches from some sort of animal cut clean through many of them. Phobos tried to ignore it, doing his best to  _ not _ think about the damage done to the centuries-old artifacts around him.

He chased the noise to the inner gardens, the sound of  _ something _ scraping against metal wasn’t the most inconspicuous clashing he’s heard. A thick haze of smoke wafted over the tall hedge maze, obscuring the sky completely. After a silent run around the thick bushes, Phobos knew that the sound was coming from the center of what was once his and his brother’s sanctum.

Without a second thought Phobos leapt into the air. He used his wings to propel himself over each tall hedge block. It would take far too long to get to the center on foot alone, and he had to aid whoever was locked in battle. He flew through the smoke, trying to breathe as little of it in as possible.

He knew how far the center was from the outer walls of the maze.

_ Just a little more… _

His lungs were burning. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He took in a fateful gulp of ash only to cough it out and fall out of the sky.

His lungs were scorching. The hot smoke wrecked unseen havoc below his exoskeleton. His sword sunk into the ground as his shield skidded far from his hand.

“Phobos!”

He looked up to see his brother, Deimos, looking at him with a mix of worry and hope.

Then everything stopped.

It happened so fast but sickeningly slow all at once.

Deimos’ own sword pierced through the gap in his armor. It came out the other side, covered in his golden blood. Deimos looked down at the blade sticking out of his thorax. He gingerly grabbed it, only for the person behind to shove it further through. Phobos’ twin let out a strangled cry, every muscle in both of their bodies tensing. Just as quickly as it was thrusted in, the sword was ripped out. The hole in Deimos was dripping from both ends, and he did all he could to stop the ceaseless flow of blood. His hands fumbled at the hole, weakly pressing against it only for the blood to slide through his fingers. He staggered forward a few steps, finding Phobos with his eyes. “Run,” he whispered, although to Phobos it was as clear as a scream. Deimos dropped, prone, on the ground, the gaping hole still spilling amber onto the ground below him. He wasn’t even twitching.

Above the body of his brother stood the murderer, gushing over his work. “I gotta hand it to you Scarabille. These are some of the sharpest swords I’ve ever seen.”

Above Phobos towered a Felinal. His fur was matted, mane wild, and eyes wide. The pupils were pin pricks and whites flecked with purple. He was high on Funk, something that was outlawed in Scarabille space, and he looked down at the young Lord hungrily.

Phobos jumped to his feet, pulling his own sword out of the ground. He held it securely in front of him, begging the Felinal to attack just to see what his newly stoked anger would command of him.

“Oh? You’re challenging me? I don’t think you want to do that, bud. This planet is already toast. Heh,  _ literally _ .”

Phobos charged forward. His only want was to see the light leave that monster’s eyes. To do to him what he had done to Deimos. To avenge his home.

The Felinal blocked the first strike and the second and the third. Every slash Phobos sent was met with his twin’s blade clashing back in defence. Phobos kept charging, laying down a flurry of sharp swings, as he and the Felinal danced around the garden. The fact that he wasn’t making any headway wasn’t the problem. What bothered him the most was that shit eating grin. The monster in front of him was  _ enjoying _ this! Every stab Phobos took wore him out more and more, but the sadist blocked every shot without breaking a sweat. He wasn’t going to make any headway from the ground, he realised, so Phobos flew into the smoke above him.

“Clever bug, but you can’t stay up there forever. You have to breathe at some point. The other one did.”

_ So Deimos had tried this. _ Phobos silently hovered in the air, somewhere above the Felinal, holding his breath in his still-burning lungs. He was listening for any indication of the being below him, but the creature was just as quiet as him. He flew to where some shrubs should be and dropped. There he sat, silently catching his breath and frantically glancing around for his enemy. He didn’t see him in front of him, to his left, to his right, so that only left behind him.

The bush he was up against suddenly crackled, its small branches breaking. He looked up to see that awful snag-toothed smile. “How’re ya doin’, little buddy?”

Phobos shot up immediately, intending to fly back into the smoky cover. He didn’t even make it off of the ground. The Felinal had grabbed his wings, claws easily slicing through the paper-thin skin. Phobos didn’t dare move, fearing further damage to the most delicate part of himself.

The Felinal gripped the thin veins connecting his wings to his back, “I don’t want you flying off on me now,” and pulled.

The pain was immediate and intense. It forced Phobos to his knees and the boot to his bleeding back sent him sprawling on the ground. He kept his grip on his sword, holding onto the last shreds of strength he could muster. He felt the Felinal drop to his knees, straddling Phobos with Deimos’ sword set to plunge into him. In a flash, Phobos spun in place. He deflected the incoming blade, regrettably sending his skittering away with it.

Now only a handful of inches between them, the monster snarled. “Not bad, but I’m still going to kill you. I have a point to prove, you know.” He punched Phobos square in the mandibles, sending a shock through his entire body. 

The Felinal grabbed Phobos’ shirt, closing the distance between them to mere millimeters. “Wake up, ‘Bos!”

Phobos blinked in surprise. That wasn’t right. He was warring with this villain, not sleeping, not to mention he didn’t even tell this monster his name. What was he talking about? Wake up? He was definitely awake!

“Come back to me ‘Bos!”

The expression staring him down suddenly shifted to worry. Why would this thing be worried about him? Where was he supposed to be? He caught a glance of the ceiling above him.  _ Ceiling? _ It was dark, made of old metal, and definitely not smoke.

“Hey, over here.”

His eyes blearily tracked back to the Felinal- _ no, my friend Meouch _ -who’s eyes were brimming with concern. Very carefully, Phobos brought up a hand. One letter at a time, he signed out,  _ “Meouch?” _

“Yeah, bud, I’m right here.”

His brain felt fuzzy, but memories were starting to come back. They were on some deserted planet looking for a Time Crystal in a dead ship. They had gotten separated, one at a time, because the ship was falling apart around them. Then he was chasing after Deimos?

_ “What happened?” _

“Well,” Meouch got off of Phobos, “I’ve been scouring this hunk of prehistoric junk for you guys. I found you first, but you started attacking me. You alright?”

Meouch helped Phobos to his feet.  _ “Yeah, I think so.” _ His head tilted forward when he stood, suddenly aware of an extra mass on his respirator.

“Sorry about that, I stuck a purifier on your helmet.” Meouch picked his own mask up from the floor and fit it over his head. “There’s something in the air, and I’m betting that whatever it is made you go feral.”

_ “I didn’t ‘go feral,’ I was in a memory. I was reliving  _ _ that _ _ day, back on my home planet.” _ Phobos slowly signed, trying to become aware of his surroundings.

“Oh…” Meouch awkwardly swallowed, remembering that day vividly. “Are you, uh, alright? Do you need me to-”

_ “No, no it’s alright.” _

Phobos wouldn’t meet Meouch’s eyes.

“So, uh, any idea where the others are?”

_ “Sadly no, I was hallucinating too long to trace back to where we were separated.” _ Phobos let out an airy sigh, trying to figure out where they were in relation to where he last remembered being.

“Well, I’ve been working my way to the Power Core, which is where Havve should go. I’m just hoping we find Sung along the way, unless he’s made it there already.”

“Is someone there?” A new voice cut into their conversation.

“And  _ that _ ,” Meouch jutted a thumb down the hall the voice had echoed down, “is right on time.”

_ “On time?” _ To say Phobos was confused would be one hell of an understatement.

“Come on, I’ll tell you while we walk.”

They ventured after the voice, careful of the crumbling ground. They didn’t make it far, however, when Phobos found his sword jutting out of a wall and his shield on the ground a few feet from it. Instinctively, he strapped them back onto himself.  _ I really did attack him. _ He chased after Meouch, following the only light in the empty hall that sat securely on the side of Meouch’s helmet.

Phobos noticed a strange step in Meouch’s normally smooth gait.  _ Is he limping? _ He decided to ignore it for now. Surely he hadn’t actually hurt his friend. Meouch could easily fight back and defend against any attacker. Then again, Phobos wasn’t  _ any _ attacker in this case. He had never seen Meouch ever put his heart into sparring with him.

But he couldn’t possibly be hurt, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meouch is strong. A little skirmish won’t hurt him. Then again, this wasn’t exactly a little skirmish. Surely he’s uninjured, right?


End file.
